Confronting racism

We start out as just another day of canvassing. Of course that it’s election day gives it an additional frisson of urgency. It’s GOTV… Get Out The Vote.

We operate out of Donna’s cozy house in western Lakeshore. Donna was an office person until we opened satellite offices in the neighborhoods, to attract more local volunteers and get more canvassing done.

Volunteers–ones I never see—deliver six-foot sub sandwiches, cases of water and soda, candy and fruit. We canvassers don’t go hungry.

Right as I begin the afternoon canvass, we get an emergency call from an east Cleveland office. They need help. We pile into cars and head off. We’re the Obama Campaign Lakeshore Flying Squad.

East Cleveland is another world. We pass street after street of abandoned factories, warehouses and apartment buildings, with boarded up windows and lawns gone to weeds. It is a nearly 100% black part of town.

The East Cleveland Obama campaign office has problems. I guess local volunteers haven’t shown up, so we take over.

My friend Alex and I cover one “turf” (a three block area in a precinct). It’s almost as if it doesn’t matter that the canvass didn’t get done. Every single person I talk to (and a lot more folks are at home than in the Lakeshore neighborhoods) has already voted. For Obama, of course. And they are universally friendly and enthusiastic.

The only racism I confront is my own. I am careful to park my car within sight of my canvass. And not because it might get towed. And I kind of urge Alex to canvass with me, instead of going alone, as I do in Lakeshore.

Feeling the warmth of the people we canvass, I am embarrassed at my bigotry.